


After It All

by Seika



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Gen, Humour, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29251737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seika/pseuds/Seika
Summary: Just two adventurers on a trek.
Relationships: Charname & Imoen (Baldur's Gate)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	After It All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GriegPlants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GriegPlants/gifts).



"Im. _Please_."

"Nope."

"Give me the bag."

"Nope!"

If Ala had still had the full force of her divine heritage, the look she sent Imoen would have very literally killed. As it was, a couple of nearby plants still wilted. "This is below either of our dignities, sis, seriously. We managed better than this straight out of bloody Candlekeep."

"So it's a new experience!"

" _Experiences_ are meant to be things of wonder. Like, I don't know, meeting the Grand Dukes of Baldur's Gate. Visiting faraway Amn. Crossing the planes in a sorcerer's magical sphere. Delving into the Underdark. Treating with the Queen of Suldanesselar. Speaking with a Solar who serves the highest of the gods. Casting spells that shake the heavens to reforge artifacts before which the powers cower in fear.

"They are _not_ meant to mean that we abandon all of that to trudge through a stupid, frozen bog in the backwaters of the Bloodstone Lands and knock out bandits with a branch because the stupid cheap swords you _let_ yourself get conned into buying (by a blatantly shady peddler, let me remind you) broke on us! Now gimme the bag!"

Imoen pouted. "That would be cheating. Do you want to be the sort of underhanded soul who cheats?"

"One, Im, your attempt at a straight face is truly tragic and every single person who trained you would be ashamed to see it. Two, they _literally_ can't hurt us. I saw that axe bounce off you, and I know you didn't have stoneskins up, never mind all the Bhaal presents I've got left over."

The pout deepened for a second, before Imoen changed tack. "Aww, the big bad warrior can't handle a couple of days in Damara without reaching for her fiery artifact sword for warmth, or the _teleport_ scroll to skip the whole travelling business. I thought you were meant to be tough? Didn't you win some big demigod war a few years back? What happened to you?"

"I swear by Tyr's hand, little sister. There are two ways this ends. Either you hand over the bag of holding now, or I stick you in terrible northern swamp water and take it off you anyway."

Imoen stuck her tongue out. "Bully."

"And what exactly, miss archmage, do you call the last few days since you stole my stuff?"

Imoen pulled up short, making Ala turn to her. She looked down at the ground, and shifted on her feet reluctantly, before words seemed nearly to burst out of her, unbidden.

"Look. Ala. It's, um, it's. I just want us to do things like they're supposed to be done. You know? Literally from the moment we left Candlekeep - even _before_ we left - we were part of some big plot. A mighty scheme to turn the Sword Coast red, and all that. And after that, it never, _never_ let up, not for weeks or months or years. Any time we even thought about stopping, there was a new madman trying to kill all the elves or wipe another city off the face of the earth or let Demogorgon loose. And, actually, we get told it's been going on since before we were even born, part of some _fuckhead_ god's try at resurrecting himself in this grand prophecy that was shaking the planes.

"And we're meant to be done with all that know, aren't we? We're meant to be ordinary. Ordinary again, or ordinary like we never got to be before. Can you just let me pretend that we get to do it like this, like we should have got to do it from the start? Just. Be normal?"

Ala sighed, and pulled her sister into a close hug. "Im. You know I love you, right? I appreciate you more than words can say, owe you more than I could possibly repay. I'd do genuinely anything in all the Realms and all the worlds and planes beyond for you. You know all that?"

Imoen sniffled and nodded into her sister's chest.

"You also know, Immy, that I am _absolutely not falling for that sob story_."

And so the great sorceress of Candlekeep, Imoen the Bright, had her feet swept under from under her in a perfect combat trip and, laughing and screaming, was deposited into a icy bog. Exactly where she deserved to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Is it actually sincere? It is a trick? Is it a deflection? Who's deflecting? We may never know.


End file.
